


The Present

by Domokoru



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Blindfolds, Dildos, Disguise, Don't Like Don't Read, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Solo, Fucking Machines, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I'm new to this sorry, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, Male Solo, Masturbation, Mindfuck, Naked Female Clothed Male, Non-Consensual Bondage, Pain, Painful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Sadism, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Wetting, defloration, no betas we die like men, oblivious Emmy, psychopath desmond?? lmfao, uhhhhhh, weird like villian and savior at the same time kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domokoru/pseuds/Domokoru
Summary: Descole gives Emmy a present and she doesn't appreciate it.
Relationships: Emmy Altava/Desmond Sycamore, Jean Descole/Emmy Altava
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Present

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the entire second trilogy of the series.
> 
> Hi I've been writing fanfiction for several years but never posted it anywhere but here it is now. I have a lot of old ones but this one is new as in "yesterday" new haha. Pls be gentle ive never done this lmfao. Read the tags for warnings.

Emmy groggily awoke to biting cold air. She hadn't been in this room before, some sort of basement with a single overhead light swinging above her. Of course, she wasn't aware of any of those facts; she was blindfolded. More striking than that, she felt strapped down to something like a dentist's chair or operating table, almost completely laying down, with her hands braced to the arms and her legs tied to the footrests. She realized the chill she felt was due to a lack of clothing, and upon that realization tried to struggle out of the chair to no avail. 

"Finally awake?" A voice came from her right side, piercing through the silence. Unfortunately, she knew to whom it belonged.

"Just what kind of sick plan do you have this time, Descole?" Emmy spat his name in anger. "Blackmail? Intel? Where, why, and what the _fuck_ is this!?" She punctuated her interrogation with another attempt to rattle her binds.

"Oh, my lady, nothing of the sort." Descole leaned down until the girl could feel his hot breath on her face. "I just wanted to give you a present." Emmy could hear the smirk in his tone and became even more incredulous.

"No sane person would ever define _this_ as a 'present'," she growled in his direction. The man shrugged and walked into the distance. Emmy didn't know whether to feel relieved or anxious that he was leaving. Though, she didn't have much time to ponder as the sound of footsteps followed by something on squeaky wheels returned to her chair. 

"I made this specially for you." With the flip of a switch, the machine whirred and whined. Emmy shuddered at the thought of what kind of torture device was in store for her. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, though." Descole flipped off the machine again and walked back to Emmy's side. The man brushed his fingers softly down her ribs, stopping at her hips. The brunette quivered at the sudden touch. "Miss Altava, have you ever... Been with a man before?" Emmy spun her head away from him, almost wishing the creep had gone the extra mile with a gag of some sort so she would've been spared this conversation. Descole grabbed her chin and pulled her back to face him. "If you know what's good for you, you'll answer me!" Instead of responding as he suggested, she took the opportunity to spit squarely in his face. 

"Bullseye!" Emmy laughed bitterly. The man scowled and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Do what you will. I was only trying to make things more pleasant for you." Descole walked back to the machine and started to prepare something. With sound alone, she couldn't quite guess what was happening. After a bit, the machine began to whir one again. The whirring noise became closer and louder as Descole pushed the machine closer. "Please accept my gift to you, Miss Altava."

"Fuck y-OOUUGHH!?" Emmy's retort was interrupted by scream fueled by a mix of fear, confusion, and pain. As soon as Descole finished his sentence, she felt something rip her open and nearly tear her in half, and it just kept going. "Wha-AUGGH!?" She tried to ask, but couldn't get anything besides wails out. Descole smiled.

"It's the present I made for you, Miss Altava." He stepped back over to be at her side again, sighing dreamily as he watched his handiwork. "It's a sex machine. Just for you. It seems to be working perfectly." The machine was relentlessly thrusting a long, smooth, purple dildo into Emmy's pussy. It was programmed to gradually speed up as time passed. 

"I didn't-EEEEP! Stop it-AUUGGHH!" Emmy wailed. 

"What is it? I didn't quite catch that." Descole chuckled. 

"I've nev-AAAGGHH! Hurts-AHHAAUUGHH!!" Emmy screamed as she dug her fingers into the arms of the chair and curled her toes.

"'You've never?' So you're a virgin?" Descole went back over to examine the machine. Sure enough, there was some blood. The man sighed and came back over again. "Didn't I tell you it was for your own good to answer me? I would've used more lube." He reached over to pinch one of her nipples. "I'd feel sorry for you, but you _did_ spit on me. You brought this on yourself." Emmy was past the point of being able to respond quickly, or even think quickly for that matter. The only things registering in her mind were the splitting pain of her torn hymen and the ever-increasing thrusting of the machine. "Hmm. Let's change things up a little bit," said Descole. He slowed the machine to a halt and took it out of her. Emmy panted, relieved at a moment of respite from the machine. 

_Finally, it's over..._ She thought. 

"While I get this ready, let's make sure you don't get too bored waiting." Descole laughed as Emmy froze at his words. The man proceeded to tape bullet vibrators to her nipples and clit, switching them all on at once with the touch of a remote control. 

"MMMGGH!!" Tremors went through Emmy's body as she felt the new sensations of the toys. 

"That should keep you busy for now." Descole went back to switching out the smooth purple dildo on the machine for a thicker black one, studded with bumps all over the shaft. The damage had already been done, but he smeared the new toy with lube anyway, with considerably more than he did for the previous one.

As this was happening, Emmy tried to call for help.

"Help! Somebody! Anybody!" Descole smirked at the attempt and responded flatly.

"Do you really mean _anybody?_ You want Layton or the boy to see you like this?" Emmy gasped. As horrible as this man was, he was right. Was there anyone that she could call?

"Desmond! Professor Sycamore! Help me!" Descole gulped.

"W-Why him? You want that sniveling weakling to help you?" Descole sputtered, trying to keep his cool.

"Desmond wouldn't judge me... He loves me...and I love him! He would do _anything_ to save me!" Emmy asserted. The irony made Descole feel a bit sick, but it mostly just fueled the lust building inside him.

"If you really think he'll come rescue you like a knight in shining armor, scream until you're blue in the face and find out for yourself." Descole whipped his head back to the machine as Emmy kept calling for help, completely unaware that help wouldn't arrive.

* * *

With the machine prepared and one final surprise up his sleeve, he turned back to the girl. "Did you miss me?" Emmy was whining to herself, tears streaming out from under her blindfold. Descole wiped a tear from her cheek. "What's wrong? Not enough for you yet? Worry not, my lady." He untaped the bullet from the brunette's clit, giving himself room to reinsert the machine with the new attachment. 

Emmy wailed in surprise at the new texture and at the pain of the dildo reagitating her torn hymen. "I know it's a lot, but this should help distract you from the pain." Descole held up a wand vibrator, clicked it to the highest setting, and rammed it onto Emmy's clit. 

At this point, all Emmy could do was convulse; her body shook from the pain, the cold air nipping at her skin, the feelings of the vibrators, and from the sheer motion of the machine. She couldn't resist. She couldn't fight back. She couldn't even think. She couldn't even breathe. She could only do one thing.

"Euuauuughh.....Deesss....Mnnnah..... Dessh....Muh..." Emmy was so out of it that she didn't even realize or care that she had just wet herself. It dripped down her legs, off the chair, and onto the ground below.

"Oh my." Descole smirked. "I would expect a lady such as yourself to have more manners than that." Emmy didn't indicate that she had heard him at all, let alone respond. "No matter, we're almost done here anyway." He repositioned himself next to Emmy's face, still holding the massager to her clit in one hand. The man reached down to take out his cock, aching from the lack of attention after witnessing everything before him. Descole wiped up some of the drool that had been slowly pooling out of Emmy's lips and used it as a meager makeshift lube. It wasn't much, but with the target of his lust in front of him, it barely took a few moments for him to cum hard onto Emmy's face. "That's my last present for you, Miss Altava." He put the massager down and exited the basement, leaving the girl to writhe under the still buzzing vibrators and studded dildo. She tried feebly to yell, one last time.

"De.....ss...muh..... help...."

* * *

About ten minutes after Descole left, the door slammed open. 

"Emmy!?" Desmond ran into the room and gasped. "What happened to you!?" He quickly ripped the bullet vibrators off, pushed the machine away, and tore Emmy's blindfold and binds off. Long passed out from overstimulation and exhaustion, weakly blinked her eyes open.

"Desh.....mund?" She reached up to grab him into a hug. "Des...cole.........hurts...." Desmond rubbed her back as she started to fall asleep leaned against his chest. "Knew you'd...save.....me...." 

"Don't worry, Emmy. I'm going to get him back for doing this to you." The man scooped her up into a princess carry. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay? Shower, first-aid, then hot cocoa and a movie? How does that sound?" Emmy nuzzled into him as he carried her.

"Yes... You're my... hero..." Emmy whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. Desmond felt a pang of guilt at the word. If she only knew it was his own depraved mind that abused her for his sick fetish. The feeling began to subside as the euphoria from his arousal began to flood over him. Completely soiling Emmy... Stealing her virginity... Even Desmond didn't think that she would still be a virgin... Fucking her with a machine of his own design to her breaking point, only to be the one to nurse her back to health. It made him throb and flush all over, just thinking about it. His thoughts were soon interrupted by a slowly waking Emmy.

"You know what... he did?" She looked at him, her dark brown eyes glimmering with sadness. Desmond sighed in sympathy.

"No, but I could wager a guess." Emmy looked back down in shame. "It's not your fault, Emmy." _It's mine._

"I know... I just..." Emmy sniffled, the lump in her throat audible as she spoke. "I wanted _you_ to be my...first." Desmond pretended not to hear her.

"Shh darling, conserve your energy. Don't tire yourself out by talking." Luckily for him, earlier he had pinned his dick into his waistband. Every word she spoke, every movement she made in his arms, only got him harder and harder. He tried to walk more briskly until they got to his room. He laid her down softly onto the bed. "Rest here a bit, all right? I'll run a bubble bath for you." Emmy smiled softly and looked up at him with warmth in her tired eyes.

"Thank you...I love you, Desmond." The girl said before laying her head back onto the bed. Desmond rushed to the bathroom and started filling the tub. He turned both knobs as far as they would budge and flipped the fan on afterward, to get as much background noise as possible. He couldn't risk her hearing him. 

Desmond tore off his clothes and fumbled around the medicine cabinet to find the lube. _Finally._ The scholar squeezed lube into his hand and frantically slathered it on himself. _Finally, finally!_ He started fisting his cock like a madman, using both hands because using just one wasn't enough; he never expected his plan to work so well. He should've filmed it, but in the end it didn't matter. Every aspect, every sight, every scene was burned into his memory forever. _He_ was the one who got to deflower her! _He_ was the one that made her bleed and scream and wet herself! And yet, _he_ was the one she said she loved! _He_ was the one she called to for help, who she believed in, who she called a "hero"! Desmond bit his lips and clenched his jaw to keep from shouting as he shot thick strands of cum into a bundle of tissues. It felt endless, like it would never stop shooting out of him. As he milked out the last drops it took all that he had to not slump onto the floor. He stood up, flushed the tissues, washed his hands, splashed his face with cold water, put on his clothes once more, and checked the mirror. Besides a needing a quick tie adjustment, there was nothing out of place for a world-renowned, British gentleman scientist.

Desmond looked at the tub, still had a third of the way left. For once he was thankful for how long it took to fill. He walked shakily to the door and opened it a crack to see Emmy dozing on the bed still. _Thank goodness._ He tiptoed over and gently shook her awake. 

"Emmy..." he whispered, "Your bath is almost ready." She lazily blinked her eyes open to look at him and smiled.

"Thank you..." Emmy pecked him on the lips. "For everything." She limped over to the bathroom and shut the door.

_"For everything," huh?_

Desmond sat in the silence of his room. He noticed the faint smell of urine from the foot of the bed. He noticed the scarlet of the bloodstains on the sheets. He noticed the taste of his own semen from Emmy's lips.

_You have absolutely nothing to thank me for._


End file.
